Chapter VIII
Mariam hums to herself as she mixes poultices for the safehouse in the work room assigned to her, beside her and Sable’s room.
Part of their agreement was that in return for the Reapers’ hospitality, she would keep them stocked with medicinal supplies of the magical sort.
Mariam felt this was fair enough, and on the plus side, they had given her a week to get comfortable before starting.
She finishes the second crate and turns her attention to a third before realizing she doesn’t have nearly enough calendula or lion’s mane to finish what needs done today.
She grumbles before scooting out her chair from the workbench and heading for the supply closet just under the stairs.
She opens it with the little key Anima gave her…
but it looks rather barren. There’s no more of either of the herbs there, either. Shit!
Sighing deeply, she heads up the stairs and onward to Anima’s office. Through the window by her door, Mariam spots the red-headed woman sitting at her desk. After knocking, Anima’s head pops up, and with a smile, she waves Mariam on in. “Hi, Mariam! How can I be of service?”
“Hey, I’m sorry to bother you, but I was trying to make the poultices and I realized we don’t have near enough lion’s mane or calendula for me to finish the deep wounds one today. Is there another store of them somewhere?”
Anima cocks her head, her jangly earrings swaying as she does. “Is there none in the supply closet under the stairs?”
“No, ma’am.”
Anima taps her long, scarlet nails on the desk before smiling again. “I’ll go grab Will and he can take you and Sable down to the village. Don’t worry, they’re all witches or supernaturals, and he’ll have a card to pay for it.”
“Okay, cool, I’ll go grab Sable.” Mariam doesn’t let it show on her face, but she feels a little nervous at the prospect of leaving. The village won’t be as protected as the safehouse.
“Excellent. Meet me out front.” As Anima stands, Mariam hurries off to grab Sable. She takes the stairs at a jog, then whips around to their room. She opens the door quietly, then climbs onto the bed. Sable is still sleeping with her head on her arm, her hair curling cutely around her face.
Smiling, Mariam kisses the point of her ear. Sable stirs, blinking her eyes groggily. “Mmmm?”
“Hi, darling. I need you up, if you can.”
“Wha’s goin’ on?” she slurs as she sits upright, rubbing a hand over her face.
“I ran out of herbs for the poultices, so Anima is sending us with a Reaper to the village below.”
“Mmmm. Fine.” She looks at Mariam. “It better be safe.”
“Agreed.” Mariam pecks her on the lips, smiling, then gets up. “C’mon, my fair lady. We have places to be.”
Sable chuckles, slides off their combined cots, and stretches languidly, her shirt riding up and showing some of her stomach. Mariam flushes lightly at the sight, as if they haven’t been making love nightly for days now. I’m a damned idiot.
Sable grins and pecks her in return, sliding her hand down her back. “Come on, then.”
Mariam leads the way out of the room with Sable close behind.
Their boots chunk thickly on the wood. Past the main doors, they find Anima waiting with a darkly dressed, tall man with a bald head and a white beard.
He offers a friendly nod as he spots Mariam and Sable.
“Afternoon, ladies. I heard you needed a man for an herb run.”
“So it seems,” Mariam agrees. She sees Sable silently sizing the man up, her eyes lingering on the sword sheathed at his hip. He does not seem at all bothered by her staring.
“Well, let’s get on with it. Time’s ticking and I have a hunt to get to tonight.” He leads the way down the path to the parking lot, then over to a black SUV. Mariam and Sable get into the back together, while Will gets into the driver’s seat. “You two been down to the village yet?”
“No, not yet,” Mariam admits. “We’ve only been here a week and some change. Haven’t had time to do much.”
“Fair enough.” He cranks the vehicle up before he backs up, and as soon as the car starts moving, Mariam notices Sable seems a little sick. She rubs her back as Will keeps talking. “It’s a nice enough little place. The apothecary’s shop is where we’ll be headed; nice little couple owns it.”
“That’s good. I’d like to get to know them while we stay here.”
“Oh, Mr. Irving would love that!” With that, he turns on some music, and the drive down to the village is punctuated by its beat, and Will tapping along on the steering wheel, along with Sable’s soft groans.
It’s a short drive, but probably would have been a thirty-minute walk.
The village is quaint, reminding Mariam of some of the smaller mountain towns west of where she grew up.
The “shopping district” right at the base of the hill is all of ten buildings, with clusters of cottages behind them, and out past that, what looks like farmland with honey-colored wheat stalks to the horizon.
The dirt road gives way to cobble pavement as they pull in, and Will navigates to a small alleyway parking area, shuts off the car, and steps out.
Sable hurries to follow suit, with Mariam coming out behind.
Will claps Sable on the shoulder as she doubles over, panting heavily. “Not used to cars yet, huh?”
“No,” she groans, her pants labored.
“Take a minute to catch your breath. I’ll wait.” He walks away to the back of the SUV as Mariam comforts Sable. It takes her a moment to recover, but when she does, she shakes her head violently.
“I hate your mode of transportation. Tearing is easier.”
“I disagree, but I can see why you’d prefer it,” Mariam comments, laying a hand on Sable’s arm as they head down to the apothecary’s across the street.
It’s a quaint building, made of white brick and with a white awning over the entryway.
As they enter, an older man greets them.
They exchange pleasantries before Mariam grabs a shopping basket and goes to examine his wares while he returns to cleaning his counter.
Will takes up guard about midway down the counter, his sword’s hilt gripped in his hand.
Mariam steers Sable by the arm to follow her as she picks out several bundles of calendula and places them in the basket, counting quietly to herself. She turns to look for the mushroom powders, only to be interrupted by Sable nosing her way into the basket.
“What is all of this stuff?” Sable asks, sniffing at it curiously.
Mariam smiles and opens her mouth to answer just as the door opens again. Then there’s a soft whoosh! and Sable is on the floor convulsing violently.
“Sable?! Oh, my God, Sable, what’s wrong?
!” Mariam collapses to her knees. She sees a metal dart in Sable’s arm and rips it out, wincing as its barbs tear through her flesh.
She moves Sable to her side just like she was taught in her medicinal classes.
She’s holding back her hair as the first clang punctures the air.
Will and someone she doesn’t recognize, dressed in a hooded, dark gray trench coat, have crossed blades at the front of the store.
Will is wielding a long, curved blade, while the stranger’s is what Mariam thinks is called a broadsword; it’s as wide as a dinner plate.
Mariam watches, horrified and mesmerized as they move like water, dancing around each other.
She didn’t know such violent movements could look so graceful.
They parry each other’s blows, neither losing ground until Will lands a hit to the stranger’s shoulder.
He grunts, blood dribbling from the wound, and then fights back even more fiercely.
Will is battered back as he tries to simply keep up, grimacing as his sword meets the other’s, but more narrowly each time. He is losing.
“Good luck winning this, human,” the other man snarls. “You are fighting a High Lord now.”
“You were a High Lord, and then they banished you. Did you forget that, Caedren?” Will hisses the name, beating him back. That’s him. That’s Caedren. Oh, God.
Mariam shakes Sable, but all she gets is a half-conscious groan. Panic begins to overwhelm her. If Will can’t defeat him, what the hell will they do? Mariam is no fighter. Fuck.
Just then, Will’s sword is knocked from his hand.
It slides across the ground, ending at the end of the counter with a loud shhhhhling!
In the next second, Will’s head rolls to Sable’s splayed feet.
Mariam screams, screams until she is hoarse.
She shakes Sable as hard as she can. Finally, she begins to stir.
But it’s too late. She feels a gloved hand wrap around her arm and begin to drag her away. She struggles, puts up a fight, but only manages to earn a grunt of effort from Caedren. She tries to call on her magic, but it fizzles inside of her; she’s too distraught. “Sable! Sable!”
“That dog can’t help you now, idiot,” Caedren snarls, dragging her so hard she fears her shoulder will dislocate if she resists further.
She tries to wriggle out of his grip, but it is like iron.
He is powerful, and she is fucked. As they get to the exit, Mariam sees Sable’s head pop up, then the panic in her eyes.
~§~
“Mariam!” Sable’s voice is barely above a whisper after her seizure.
To her horror, a man who must be Caedren is dragging Mariam by one arm.
She struggles after him, but her body is weak.
He must have hit her with iron, but if so, she should have been down for longer.
She feels her bond burning in the space between her and Mariam.
She’s never heard of this, but somehow the magic of the mating bond must have spurred her beyond her normal capabilities.
Then she smells the tearing coming, the acrid smell of burning magic heightening—
She does the only thing she can think to do at this range. She sends a gray bolt of magic at him, her fingers sizzling with raw energy. It connects. Something happens. An explosion of dark gray light—